


The Way to Cook

by ArgonTheConqueror



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cooking Lessons, Don't think too much about the logic of this fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28829622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgonTheConqueror/pseuds/ArgonTheConqueror
Summary: Azula knows Zuko sucks at cooking. That is a universal fact. So when her brother manages to make a dinner that actually was edible, and reveals the fact that he got some expert teaching from the Avatar, she had to regain her advantage. Though... that did mean she would have to ask the Avatar of all people for help.Spirits help her.
Relationships: Aang & Azula (Avatar), Aang/Azula (Avatar)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	1. Shopping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleQueenTrashMouth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleQueenTrashMouth/gifts).



> Hello! It's another fic from me, this time bringing Aang and Azula together faster than a particle collider! And again, the credit ought to go to LittleQueenTrashMouth for being an amazing source of ideas as I wrote, and still am writing this. We all must bow to her, the idea queen.
> 
> Anyways, here follows an account of Aang and Azula's adventures in the kitchen!

Oh great, Zuzu was cooking tonight. Azula knew the Fire Lord misspent his time in many ways but learning how to cook was not one of them. Her stomach would need to prepare itself for this disaster, and fast. She still remembered when their Uncle got food poisoning from Zuzu's culinary misadventures a few weeks back. Azula would not make the same mistake.

Making her way to Zuko’s personal kitchens, she readied herself for the smell. Last time she was here, well… it smelled much less of a restaurant kitchen and much more of a violent Agni Kai. And that would likely have been more organised, too. What dear old Zuzu’s cooking tonight, Azula dared not venture to guess.

Nearing the kitchen itself, the smell was… pleasant, much to her surprise. Normally, when her brother was in, the servants were out. By a fifty-mile radius. But this time, this time something was very different. Would Zuko stoop so low as to pass off someone else’s cooking as his? Because surely, not even a force of nature could change his cooking powers so rapidly.

But instead of a flaming mess, Azula found there was order and calm in his kitchen. This felt very, very wrong.

“Good of you to be here tonight, Azula.”

“As if I had any other choice, Zuzu.”

She was right. A dinner invitation from Zuko, that she would ignore safely. An official dinner invitation from the Fire Lord, that could not be ignored. Not even a Princess could do that. 

“Well, the food’s almost ready. Get yourself seated in the dining room, will you?”

Azula made herself at relative home in the dining room. As comfortable as she could be in this situation. Solitary dining was her preference. Solitary anything, really. It was now that she heard some heavy steps coming from the kitchen. Oh dear.

“Dinner’s ready!” Zuko announced as he carried a rather large tray. “You’ll actually like it this time, I guarantee it.”

“I doubt it, Zuzu. Remember what happened with Uncle?”

“That was just one time! This is different!”

“Hired a new private chef, then?”

“I learned how to actually cook, Azula. Slight difference.”

“Well, let’s see it then. What did you make today, Zuzu?”

“This is just the first course, Azula. I hope you’re one for some onion soup?”

Azula knew exactly what dish Zuko was suggesting. Much to her chagrin, it seemed he would be defiling one of her favourite soups tonight. 

“I can’t turn down the Fire Lord now, can I? Just one bowl, please.”

The smell was… Azula had no other choice but to consider it somewhat good. If not... amazing, even. It was exactly as she would have wanted it made in any fine restaurant. A quick taste of the piping-hot bowl confirmed this. By this point it was rather clear Zuko had indeed hired some private chef and pretended to pass it off as his. Whoever they were, they deserved all the compliments.

Agni, there was not a single thing wrong with the soup! Everything was right, from the consistency to the flavour, to just the right amount of cheese on top! She wasn’t about to ask for more, though, as that would give Zuko just a slight impression she was enjoying the meal.

“So, how’s my soup? Is it up to your standards?”

“For a first time, Zuzu, it’s not bad. You could do better though, for a simple soup like this.”

That was a lie. Azula knew little of cooking, but she was rather sure this was as good as onion soup could get. How Zuko got it to be this way, she shall find out. She must find out.

“Well, there’s always more if you want some.”

“No thank you. I’ll wait for the next course, if there is one?”

“There is, actually. If you’re one for some fried rice? I know it’s a strange combo, soup and then fried rice, but I think it works.”

Whichever private chef Zuko hired seemed to have a very warped idea of a three-course dinner then. That or they’re one of those eccentric chefs who feel they must break all the rules of eating to be cool.

“Might as well, Zuzu.”

Her brother dashed into the kitchen and returned with a wok full of what was likely some of the best fried rice ever, simply from the smell of it. Again, another favourite of hers was on the table. Once is a coincidence but twice is, well, it’s a worrying pattern, she thought. 

“A proper egg fried rice, with pork and a variety of vegetables. Bon appetit!”

A bite again confirmed Azula’s idea that Zuko hired someone to do all of this for him. Compared to his Iroh-poisoning last attempt, this was… heavenly. If not for all her rigorous training in etiquette, she would have wolfed down the entire wok’s worth. But she had more self-control than that. She finished her portion in silence, seeing as she wasn’t about to give Zuko any satisfaction for what he certainly did not, and could not make.

“So, how was that then? Good? Bad? Eh?”

“Brother dear, you have to stop prodding me after every bite I take, you know. But if you must ask, it was relatively acceptable. Relative to your last attempt at cooking, that is. How can I be sure you haven’t given me food poisoning somehow?”

“Well, whatever happened to Uncle last time did not happen today, I can assure you that.”

“I’m sure you can. What’s for dessert then, Zuzu?”

“Crème brûlée. I learned how to make those the right way, for once.”

Azula’s memories of the last time Zuko tried to make that dessert resurfaced, and she almost retched. 

“I still remember the stomach-ache you gave everyone who ate that, Zuko. What proof do I have that you won’t ruin them this time?”

“Trust me, it is different this time. Would you like to do the sugar glaze?”

“How very nice of you to offer. Hand it over.”

Azula watched as her brother sprinkled over her crème a fine layer of sugar. Something has changed indeed. Last time he tried it, Zuko poured the sugar on in heaps! She lit herself a calm, measured blue flame and began to let the sugar melt. She may not know much about cooking, but crèmes were one of her favourites and she had to know how to properly glaze them, at least. She found Zuko having just a bit more trouble with his own crème, seeing as his orange flame was inconsistent, as usual. Even as Fire Lord he would not have proper fine control over his powers. Such a shame.

As for the taste of the dish, again she could not find any way to assail it. It was beyond reproach. Flawless. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. By this time, she knew she had to force Zuko to drop the charade. 

“So, brother dear, congratulations on an… acceptable meal. Now tell me the truth.”

“What? What about it?”

“Did you or did you not make all this yourself?”

“Y-yes. Why?”

The slight twitch in his voice would suggest he lied. Zuko almost never lied, honest man as he was. But he had his tells. This was at least one.

“With or without an… outside influence?”

“Azula, I cooked it all myself. Promise.”

“Last time you cooked, Iroh had indigestion for a month. And yet you manage to apparently cook a perfect, restaurant-quality meal in… Agni knows how long. What changed?”

“Restaurant quality, you say? I guess I’ll have to thank th-“

There’s the slip-up that Azula needed. Very nice of her brother to be so easy to trip up.

“Thank who, Zuzu? I knew you had someone do this all for you, and you just confirmed it for me.”

“I—I…I-uhh… It’s not what you think it is, Azula.”

“Is it? Not even a force of nature could turn you around so… violently.”

“I promise you, I did not hire anyone to cook for me.”

A truth? Zuko was indeed telling the truth, from what Azula could dissect of what he said. 

“So what changed then? Clearly you had some, if not a lot of help. At least, that’s what was needed to fix your whole poisoning scheme.”

“I-I-I… I had help, yes.”

How was her brother so… malleable? All it took her was a few seconds of grilling and guiding and here he was spilling the beans!

“And who would this help be? Not a hired chef, you’ve said that, but who?”

“I—uh… I got some help from the Avatar. Aang… he gave me a crash course on how to cook last week, and I’ve been practising since.”

Oh. Now that, that was something Azula never saw coming.

“The… Avatar? I didn’t know he was a chef.”

“A very good one, Azula. He fixed most of my mistakes in a day! And the rest only took a few minutes to iron out.”

So, it did take a force of nature to resolve Zuko’s culinary mistakes after all. Or something close to it, from what Azula knew of the Avatar. After all, defeating her father in combat was one thing, defeating him at the height of the Comet, that would have meant… She would never show it, but such a display of power would have made her just the slightest bit nervous.

Of course, seeing as her brother now has another edge over her, this time in the art of cooking, it was necessary for her to regain the advantage. That… that would mean dealing with the Avatar. Oh dear. Azula swallowed her pride and began to consider her options. Would he even accept her... proposition? After all, they weren’t exactly on the best of terms, even after her so-called rehabilitation.

“So where would you… find the Avatar these days, Zuzu?”

“I hope you’re not up to anything, Azula. Unless you want him to teach you how to cook as well?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“Azula, do be nice to Aang, if you want to see him at all.”

“He won’t be receiving any lightning bolts if that’s what you’re thinking of. Again, that is.”

“Good. Aang’s not gonna be here today, but he might be in tomorrow. Don’t threaten him too much, will you?”

“I won’t do anything like that, Zuko.”

Azula shuddered at the idea of having the Avatar as a teacher. If he accepted her proposition that is. Part of her was indeed curious as to how the Avatar could turn her brother’s culinary fortunes so very quickly. She would soon find out, she hoped.

Azula slept uneasily as she anticipated her meeting with the Avatar. The pressing item on her mind, was what could she even offer in return for his tutelage? 

Could she offer to teach him firebending? She knew Zuko had done most of that already, but she also knew just how… sloppy Zuko was at it. Would the Avatar even agree to such an arrangement, though? Certainly, at least in the Fire Nation, offering to teach a master firebender would at least be a severe insult to their talents, and at most, would quickly lead to an Agni Kai. While Azula doubted the Avatar would fight her simply because of that, she also doubted whether he would accept the slight without at least some hostility.

As sleep consumed her, she still had that question in mind. 

The warmth of the sun woke her up, and for a very rare moment Azula was nervous about the day to come. She had little in the way of bargaining chips, and as such, she had almost no leverage over the Avatar to ensure her proposition would be accepted. 

Then it dawned upon her. Firebending wasn’t the only thing she could provide the Avatar. One benefit of Zuko welcoming her back to working royal status was her newfound responsibilities. The biggest, and so far most enjoyable duty, was handling the Royal Family’s Charitable Trust, and its many little causes. It seems the Fire Lord acknowledged her “exemplary” ability to handle people and politics. She knew the Avatar would definitely be delighted to hear the full weight of the Fire Nation’s charities be directed towards some noble cause of his. If he taught her how to cook better than Zuko, of course. Azula smiled. She now had more than one thing to offer the Avatar.

She had herself a quick breakfast and headed straight for where she knew Zuko would be. The gardens.

Unsurprisingly, her brother indeed was there, having half-submerged himself in the pond. In full Fire Lord regalia, too.

“Good morning, Zuzu. I see you’ve joined the turtleducks in the pond. Why?”

“I… it helps me think, OK? Fire Lording isn’t easy, you know?”

“I’m aware, brother dear. That’s why I’m not Fire Lord.”

“What do you want, Azula?”

“Where is the Avatar?”

“Is this… are you still stuck on the whole cooking thing? Just because I can cook now doesn’t mean you have to stalk Aang for it.

“Answer my question, Zuko.”

“He’s here. You just missed him. Came over here, said hi, and then left for the courtyard. Probably because Appa’s there right now.”

Azula quickly dashed towards the courtyard and readied herself for the confrontation. She had two major things to offer him in exchange, she remembered, and she would make sure to have a fair bargain in this deal.

She found the Avatar tending to his animal, and apparently having a conversation with it. How the lumbering beast could hold one was intriguing, but a question for another day. She tried her best to approach the man silently, falling back upon the skills she honed so carefully. This failed, seeing as he somehow sensed her coming.

“Azula?”

“G-greetings, Avatar.”

“What brings you here?”

“I must congratulate you on improving my brother’s cooking abilities so quickly, Avatar.”

“Oh, he told you about that? It was nothing. Zuko just needed a fix here and there and now he’s fine. You know how bad he was before, right?”

“I do recall it, yes. In any case, what you did was… quite impressive. You have my thanks, Avatar.”

“For what? All I did was give him pointers, tips and all that.”

“For making sure he wasn’t giving me food poisoning. Our Uncle got that from dear old Zuzu once.”

“Gee… um… thanks? So what can I do for you today?”

The Avatar seemed rather clueless, from her estimate. Any good negotiator would have understood her intentions from the very first sentence. 

“Well… I am here to… to ask for help.”

“Help in what, Azula?”

By this point it seemed clear that the Avatar may just be aware after all, just that he wanted to play with her like a toy. That would not and could not be allowed.

“I require assistance with cooking.”

“You want me to teach you how to cook?”

“Very well put, Avatar. Zuzu rarely holds an edge over me, as you know, and now that he has one advantage, I want to even out our score. In return, I can teach you—“

“Yes, Azula.”

“W-what?”

“I said, I’ll teach you how to cook.”

How in the world did the Avatar even make it as a negotiator? He… he really just accepted her demand in a flash like that?

“You would accept so quickly, Avatar?”

“Yeah! Why wouldn’t I?”

Azula could think of a million reasons, but it was clear the Avatar didn’t see it the same way. She was almost curious as to how.

“You don’t have any issues at all with teaching me, for free?”

“Are you kidding, Azula? I’d love to! Sharing the experience is what cooking’s all about.”

“I see. How long will it take?”

“As long as you want it to. Now come along!”

“Where are you taking me, Avatar?”

“Shopping! Can’t be cooking without some good ingredients!”

Was the Avatar really going to start their cooking lessons now? Azula supposed there wasn’t anything else she had to do, so she went along.

“Very well then. I’ll alert my security detail so they can join us.”

“What? Azula, it’s just a shopping trip.”

“Precisely. I can very easily defend myself, but it’s always good to be certain. You never know, Avatar. Plus, I don’t know how well you could defend yourself.”

“Azula, it’s literally a quick walk to the nearest market, you know. Nothing dangerous to be seen there.”

On the contrary, Azula thought. She was popular in the Fire Nation, yes, after her little return to the spotlight, but… there were still some with a little bit of residual anger against her. There was a reason Zuko gave her a security detail, even though she didn’t think it necessary.

“Avatar, you realise I’ll be recognised, right?”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“Oh? What sort of secret?”

“When I go into crowds, everyone thinks ‘that guy looks a lot like the Avatar’, not ‘oh look, that’s the Avatar’, and I’m never found out.”

Azula wondered how such a thing could happen. After all, the man was one of the most famous in the entire world! He was the only Air Nomad that came to mind for most when the big blue arrows are seen, really. The rest are still as reclusive as could be after what her father attempted. So how did he disguise himself?

“If you say so.”

“Awesome! I’ll get myself dressed clothes that are a bit less Avatar-y, and we can head out in... five minutes?”

Azula made a silent nod and decided she would have to do some dressing too. While she wanted to test out the Avatar’s little trick on how not to be seen, it probably was a good idea not to wear her normal clothes. 

Once she finished changing into something more inconspicuous, Azula made her way back to the palace courtyards, and found the Avatar was done as well.

“So your solution to not being seen, Avatar, is a hat?”

“Yep! All I need to not be seen is to not stand out. I let the crowd do the rest, really. Now, come on, let’s go get some ingredients!”

Azula followed the Avatar’s brisk steps as the two of them made their way out of the palace. It reminded her of when she was a child, sneaking past her attendants so she could explore her palace, and her capital. Or at least, she thought it would be hers. Her little adventure with the Avatar was a bittersweet hint at those simpler days. How things have changed.

Leaving the palace walls behind them, the Avatar led Azula through the busy streets of the Caldera. Somehow, the sights and smells (or odours, rather) of this bustling city excited her. Azula remembered now why she enjoyed exploring like this. Anything to see, hear, smell, and taste was better than the sanitised environment of the Royal Court. The light breeze in her hair, the smells of food hawkers, the sound of cars and people, it was heaven compared to the damned tranquillity of the palace. She would almost thank the Avatar for this opportunity. But not yet.

There was one question she had. What would be her first lesson in the Avatar’s culinary school?

“So, Avatar, what exactly do you plan to make today?”

“I… I actually have no idea. I was kinda thinking we could get to a supermarket or something and figure our way from there? That’s how I usually do it.”

Agni, how could a cook be anywhere near this disorganised? From the times in which she observed the royal chefs, they had rigorous menus and lists to purchase and use, and this was the very opposite of their principles. The Avatar seemed to have a very lax approach to everything. So how did that coexist with the rigours of cooking?

“So your brilliant plan is to wander through a market and hope something happens?”

“Yep! It’s worked so far, and I think it might work again! Who knows?”

Their winding path through the streets finally reached what the Avatar sought. A market. And a busy one at that, too. It seemed just the right thing for his apparent culinary genius to exploit. And from the look on his face, it was working. The Avatar had on his face the widest, most child-like grin Azula had ever seen. In another universe she would think it adorable, but that sense has been stamped out in this world. Though if he kept that damned grin up… Azula shuddered to think what that could do.

“Enjoying the view, Avatar?”

“Very much so, Azula. This… it’s amazing! I-I-I… I’m-I-I’m… permission to nerd out, Princess?”

“Permission granted, Avatar. You may, as you call it, nerd out.”

And so it came to pass that the Avatar pulled her along by her hand and breezed through every stall in the market. It was like being dragged by a tornado. She could hear some indistinct ecstatic babbling from him as they went from stall to stall, display to display. The Avatar was having fun, she knew that for certain. And so was she, if she still knew how to.

“I-I-uh…I-I-I’m… this is awesome! Fantastic! There’s… there’s so much we could do and make! Look at it! Look at it all, Azula!”

Indeed Azula was looking, but her eye was not trained to find ingredients for her food. Not yet trained, that is, if her scheme to learn from the Avatar succeeded.

“I am. What exactly do you want me to see, Avatar?”

“Look at it all! Everything’s fresh! This stall’s got some veggies straight from their garden this morning! That one has fresh mushrooms! Fresh! Look!”

The excitement emanating from the Avatar was admirable. And contagious, Azula had to admit. But she knew more than to trust what could very well he a façade like that. The Royal Court has had its fair share of disingenuous personalities much like him.

“I see the mushrooms, yes. Any idea then what we could make, Avatar?”

“I know just the thing. Are you up for some spring rolls today, Azula?”

Of all the dishes he had to choose, the Avatar decided he would make her favourite dish as a start. Agni, was the universe playing a trick on her?

“Spring rolls are… acceptable. What’s in them?”

“Well… I’m making the vegetarian ones so… some mushrooms, carrots, kohlrabi, bean sprouts, glass noodles, a few eggs, and some spring onions! Id that alright with you?”

Alright? That sounded absolutely delicious! If, or rather when the Avatar would manage to make those spring rolls, Azula would have to pull on all her etiquette training not to eat all of them right away.

“A fine selection, I would think. Is that the definitive version, Avatar?”

“Not at all. There’s so much you can do with these, you know! Some people stick tofu in them, sometimes they have potatoes, or yams, or all sorts! Want to add any of those, Azula?”

The tofu didn’t sound like a bad idea at all to her. Something about the Avatar and sounding out her favourite foods, it seems. Did he ask Zuko for this information beforehand? She doubted it, seeing as Zuko knew very little about her tastes.

“Tofu will be fine, Avatar.”

“Tofu it is then! I remember there was a stall we passed by that had some freshly made. Let’s go!”

Again, the Avatar dragged her along, as they snaked their way through the busy market. It was a blur from this stall to that, and it wasn’t long before they reached their target. The tofu maker. Azula didn’t yet know much about any sort of cooking, but she could tell that this seller was the real deal. And so could the Avatar, when she took a glance at his face.

“Do you want to choose the tofu yourself, Azila?”

“I shall defer to the expert here, Avatar.”

“Nonsense! You’re just as much an expert. Or rather I’ll make you into one in no time!”

If he was honest, then Azula thought the Avatar had said something very endearing. By now she wasn’t entirely sure whether he was lying or not. Façades would fall, eventually, so she decided to keep observing and see. But if he did mean it, then it was almost heartwarming. There was just one small problem. This really wasn’t something she had been prepared for. Not the tofu choosing, no, but rather the ordering. Damn her royal education!

“I will note, Avatar, that I don’t exactly know how to order things.”

The Avatar seemed to jolt violently when he heard Azula’s statement. He turned to face her with the most incredulous look she had ever seen on anyone’s face. 

“What? You’re… you’re not kidding, are you?”

“My family had other ideas for what things a proper lady needed, Avatar. Shopping ability was not one of them.”

“Well, here’s a crash course in it. Just come up to the seller and ask for a block or two of tofu. Simple!”

“That’s it? No complex bargaining, or dealmaking?”

“Well… if the tofu’s overpriced but this shop’s just about right, I think.”

“Is it that simple? Do I just… ask?”

“Azula, you’ve been trained since birth to be literally the most capable firebender I’ve seen, and this is what stumps you?”

“Shush, Avatar. Those skills aren’t transferable.”

It was nice to hear the Avatar held her firebending in high esteem though. Almost blush-worthy, but Azula knew better than to show it. The Fire Nation thrives on disguising emotion, and she was very good at that.

“So… do you wanna order, Azula?”

“I shall, if you insist. Two-two blocks of tofu, please.”

The slight stutter could be smoothed out eventually, she thought. Not bad for her first try at this sort of thing. The Avatar seemed to have a look of admiration on his face when she glanced at him. It was a very warm, honest smile of admiration. Of all people to be so very disarmingly sweet, it had to be the Avatar. A very dangerous quality indeed.

“See? Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“Not at all. Onwards to everything else then?”

“Yep! Now, to the vegetables!”

The vegetable stall wasn’t far off, but the Avatar still dashed there anyways in a whirlwind as Azula followed in pursuit. It was refreshing, this adventure of theirs. Much better than the turgid atmosphere of the royal court, she thought. That smallest bit of freedom, that was something she relished in. This may indeed warrant a few extra culinary lessons from the Avatar, should the need arise.

The rest of their shopping followed a very similar pattern. The Avatar would dash from this stall to that, bringing her along, and he would spend some time waxing on and on about the virtues of the ingredients at hand. Azula had tried to follow along and take mental notes, even, as a studious learner, but the flood of information from him wasn’t too easy to record. It wasn’t long before both of them were carrying bags full of the ingredients they needed.

The trip back to the palace was slower indeed with the groceries they carried, but Azula knew it would likely be worth it, just for the skills she could learn from the Avatar. Zuko’s kitchen would be theirs for the day and she knew she had to do better than he could. That, and it wouldn’t be very funny if she ruined one of her favourite dishes now, would it?

“Have you checked to see if we have everything?”

“Let’s see… carrots, kohlrabi, mushrooms, bean sprouts, jicama, tofu, eggs… the spring onions are there, and the rice paper, and noodles… yep, we’ve got it all. You ready, Azula?”

“Show me the way, Avatar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, cooking!


	2. Spring Rolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a fic involving lots of cooking, isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will note that most of this chapter occurred simply because I was really hungry when I wanted to write. My apologies if it makes you hungry too. Enjoy!

If Azula said there was just a hint of excitement in the Avatar’s eyes she would be lying. Pure, childlike, and untarnished excitement was the dominant emotion, that she could tell. It was too honest, she thought. Surely no Avatar could survive in this world while being so very open about themselves? A small bit of optimism left in her would think he was, after all, exactly as he shows himself to be, but she quashed that thought.

“Right then. First things first, have you ever worn an apron before? One of these half aprons, I mean.”

“Wouldn’t it just be tied on the back?”

“Not quite. Here, I’ll show you how to tie one.”

Azula watched as the Avatar brandished his own apron, and began folding the top down, and then as he tied it around himself. There was a certain fluidity to how he moved, she noted.

“So you see, you fold the top one or twice so when you’re cooking you are insulated from burning. And after that, you tie it in front, and there you go. I’ll get you one and help with the tying, OK?”

Azula eagerly received her own apron and began imitating the motions she just saw. Much to her chagrin, the apron was nowhere near the Avatar’s in terms of neatness. 

“This apron’s disagreeing with me, I think.”

“Oh, here. I’ll help.” Azula held her apron in place as the Avatar approached her side. “First, you fold the top down twice, like so…”

The Avatar’s hands were around her waist as he deftly brought the strings around to the front. Azula took hold of the strings from his hands and tied as best a bow as she could. She would need to perfect this skill later on, and alone, she thought. Receiving help like this was something she once shunned but the Avatar’s aid just felt nice. She was used to assistance that was more hostile, so this was a relief of sorts. Very dangerous, that.

“There we go. Now you’re Chef Azula!”

The beaming smile from her new culinary teacher was almost sickening for how brightly it shone.

“I’ll allow this once because you’re my teacher, Avatar.”

“Hey the apron makes you look really, really cute. Authoritative, and very cut-“ 

Now that was a surprise. The Avatar seemed to lack a filter, something she did not expect out of an ambassador of all people. The very red blush on his ears would confirm his honesty as he seemed to realise what he had said.

“Your honesty is very much appreciated, Avatar Aang.”

“I-I… yeah. So, um… next up, knives! Gotta get you used to the right way of using a chef’s knife.”

Just days ago, the idea of the Avatar giving her a deadly weapon was laughable, but here Azula was. Knives were more of Mai’s thing, but she could tell this one was of good quality. 

“I like this knife. Very good balance, in my view. So how exactly does one wield it, Avatar?”

Azula noticed a slight hint of worry in his gaze as she spoke. Was he… afraid of her with a knife?

“Carefully and confidently, Azula. A sharp knife will go exactly where you point it.”

“That can be arranged. So, time to deal with the vegetables?”

“I gotta show you how to not slice your fingers off first. Believe me, I’ve had a fair share of close shaves. Literally!”

“Spare me the puns, Avatar. Now, knife handling?”

“Oh, right, yeah. You’ve got the right grip for a chef’s knife already, so I’ll show you the chef’s claw. It keeps your left hand safe from being chopped with the vegetables.”

The Avatar again approached Azula’s side, this time with his own knife. She watched as he held his knife firm with one hand and curled his other into a claw. She did her best to copy him.

“Is this correct, Avatar?”

“Hmmm…. Not quite. Here, let me help.”

The Avatar took her left hand and began adjusting her form. He had a very soft touch, she noticed. Light, soft, almost nonexistent, yet uncompromising in its strength, if that was one way to describe it. A small part of her thought it was a very nice touch, especially when previous teachers of hers didn’t quite have the same care when they corrected her mistakes.

“The key, Azula, is to keep your fingertips safely covered from the knife. As long as you have your knife safely glued to your knuckles and everything, your fingertips will probably be safe from being guillotined.”

“Probably, Avatar? That’s not very re-assuring of you.”

“It’ll take some practise until you get to being 100% sure you won’t cut off a finger. Or two, Azula. Here, I’ll try to do it on this cucumber.”

Azula watched intently as the Avatar did his demonstration. To her, he looked every bit a professional chef with how quickly he seemed to do it. She almost thought he was messing with her on purpose to scare her away from the kitchens, but his previous honesty would suggest otherwise.

“Was that just to taunt me, Avatar? How very unkind of you.”

“What? No! You’ll get to this point, don’t worry. Wanna try?”

Azula nodded, and prepared herself. She approached her task with meticulous precision. Failure would mean at least a few scars from a stray cut, something she would not allow. Morphing her left hand into the claw shape, she began. One slice, two slices, three, and the motion took over from there. A part of her rejoiced in this little victory of a task done perfectly. The rest was focused on not expressing that ecstatic joy too much.

“See? I told you you’d get it. Now, wanna move on to the spring roll veggies then?”

“Onwards, Avatar. Onwards and upwards.”

“Awesome! I’ve already gotten started with this carrot here, so if you want to handle the kohlrabi, here’s some. I like to slice it all into long strips first before chopping. Don’t forget the claw!”

“Noted, Avatar.”

Azula again began her knife-work with careful analysis. And then, channelling the same precision she used during her bending, she began. It wasn’t long before their kitchen sounds evolved into a cacophony of rapid chopping and scraping. She even noticed her own speeds were approaching the Avatar’s, which bode well. She would have to thank him for this lesson, she thought.

It wasn’t long before they both had finished preparing all the ingredients necessary. Before them stood a mountain of carefully chopped vegetables, ready for whatever the next step would be.

“So, Avatar, how would you rate your student’s chopping?”

Azula watched as the Avatar took a careful glance over her pile of vegetables. There weren’t any visible signs of disappointment, which was a good indicator.

“Perfect! Ten out of ten! Restaurant-quality, Princess!”

For her first try, such a rating from the Avatar wasn’t too bad. Azula let herself express a slight smile at the thought. It was as much as she allowed herself in moments of triumph.

“Your flattery is appreciated. Now, what’s the next step?”

“Azula it’s not flattery if it’s true. And now, it’s mixing! Time to get your hands dirty!”

“Is mixing by hand the only way to do it?”

“I’ve tried using spoons and other tools to mix, but…”

“Well?”

“Well… it doesn’t work and I end up using my hands anyway. Which is why I brought these!”

The Avatar brandished a box of rubber gloves, and Azula showed no small measure of relief at their sight. It may just be a psychological boost to have gloves, but a good boost still. She put them on, and the gloves fit perfectly. 

“Thank you, Avatar.”

The smile Azula saw from him in response was almost addictive. A very dangerous thing, that.

As the Avatar began piling the ingredients into a large bowl, Azula plunged her gloved hands into the mix. The gloves definitely helped when the airbender cracked in some eggs, and what seemed like a very generous amount of salt and pepper. Perhaps too generous.

“A bit too much salt, don’t you think, Avatar?”

“We’re making a lot of spring rolls, Azula. Salt brings food to life, and the right amount of salt will make or break them. Remember that for when you’re cooking. Salt is a huge, huge, HUGE principle! As in if I could teach you one thing, it’s how awesome salt is.”

The Avatar’s pure, childlike enthusiasm on the qualities of salt was not something Azula expected to find adorable. 

“Duly noted. Any other principles I should know?”

“Um… there’s the big four. Salt, fat, acid, heat, those I will drill into your brain. Salt brings out flavour, fat carries flavour and helps texture, acid balances the fat, and heat transforms it all into glorious dishes. Got that?”

The whirlwind of information from her teacher required just a bit more of her attention. For a short lecture on what he called the ‘big four’ of cooking, the Avatar was very good at emphasising the short bit. All the while, she kept mixing the vegetables, which now had become a well-incorporated filling.

“Understood. Salt, fat, acid, heat. So, is this mixed enough, do you think?”

“Looks like it. On to the difficult stuff! Get ready for… the ROLLING!”

She watched as he brought forth two large baking trays, and for whatever reason, inverted them onto the counter space. Further confusion came when the Avatar placed a few layers of kitchen towels on them and poured water on the paper. Whatever contraption he was devising, she knew not. 

“This, this is my little innovation, Azula. Well… it’s not mine, I borrowed it from my mentor Monk Gyatso, but I’ve improved on it!”

“What exactly is it, if you wouldn’t mind explaining?”

“Well, it’s my way of making spring rolls quick. I moisten the paper, then place the rice paper on that, let it soften, and we roll!”

The basics of this system did seem rather ingenious, Azula thought. Though from what she knew, rolling these things was an art, and an art wouldn’t be very easy to master in just a day. That is, of course, until she could put her mind to it.

“Not a bad system then, if the Avatar uses it. Care to do a demonstration then?”

“It’s not that bad once you get it, I think. Here goes!”

“First goes the rice paper, Azula.” She watched intently as her new culinary instructor began by placing a sheet of rice paper onto his tray. “It takes maybe a minute or two for the water to soak in and moisten it. You want it to be very foldable, but not too wet. If it’s wet, it’ll fall apart or burst when we fry it.”

“Foldable but not too wet. Noted.”

“Great! I think it’s there now, so time to add filling.” The Avatar placed a large spoonful of the mix they’d just made in, and carefully shaped it with his chopsticks. “Here’s the fun part of wrapping. First, you roll the paper round the filling and roll it over to have it completely wrapped. And once that’s done, fold in the sides carefully, and roll the rest forwards. Wanna have a go?”

The steps seemed easy, Azula thought as she nodded. But she knew the execution may vary, depending on her care. She would not botch it, that she was determined to do.

The Avatar handed her a sheet of rice paper, and she placed it on her own tray. Time to prove her potential, she thought. Adding a careful spoon of filling, she used her own pair of chopsticks to meticulously form the pile into a rectangle. Once she made sure the filling was centred and carefully shaped, Azula made the first roll. 

The Avatar seemed to be focusing on his next spring roll, so Azula pressed onwards with hers. Folding the sides in carefully, she made the final step with absolute precision.

“Yeah, Azula, the first one’s always the hardest and it took me a few tries to—whuh?”

The pure shock emanating from right beside her was surprising indeed. What had she done?

“Yes?”

“I-you… how did you do that?”

“Do what, Avatar?”

“That’s a picture-perfect spring roll, Azula. I didn’t even master that until… I haven’t even reached that yet!”

He was right. Even to her untrained (well, not for long) eye, her product did have a pleasing, well-made look to it. Azula let herself express another small grin at her little success. This was nice, she thought. Cooking, or at least cooking with the Avatar, was peaceful, something she knew she sorely needed. Though the possibility of developing a dependency on the Avatar was rather dangerous. Very dangerous indeed.

“Your instructions were simple, Avatar. Just a simple matter of concentrating, you know.”

“Well, you’ve made it better than my first one. I’ve forgotten how that one looked. Or I hope I have forgotten.”

“A good sign then. How many more do we need?”

“Let’s see… this much filling… that size spring roll, maybe twenty? Twenty-five? Thirty? Thirty each, I mean.”

“Sixty spring rolls? Is this how many you usually make, Avatar?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Alone?”

“Yep! When I get the chance, I make a ton! Here, I’ll grab some stools. Thirty spring rolls takes a long time to wrap.”

Seeing as she’d finished hers in barely a minute, Azula wondered why the Avatar seemed to prefer sitting down. This appeared to be a very simple dish, all things considered. She’d definitely been served far more complex ones before.

While the Avatar sat, Azula decided she would press forwards standing. She made another roll, which looked just as good as her first, and kept going. Moisten rice paper, add filling, shape filling, and roll. She could very much get used to this peaceful kind of cooking.

It was some ten spring rolls later that Azula realised just how much of a mistake deciding to stand up would be. She would never dare to express any weakness to anyone, not even herself, but in just that time, she was getting tired. So, as quietly as she could, Azula pulled the stool the Avatar had brought for her over and sat down with grace. Even when tired, a Princess must be the epitome of class.

“Took you long enough. I usually make it through five before sitting down.”

“I’m not interested in making twenty more of these standing, Avatar. Think of it as… self-preservation.”

“You made the right choice, Azula. Means you’ll have just enough strength to stand when these get fried.”

“Just enough? Bold of you to assume that. Very bold.”

“Spring rolls are a difficult job, Azula. None survive the test unharmed or unchanged. That’s some monk wisdom for you right there.”

“I shall be the first to do so then. Mark my words.”

“Deal.”

Azula did an internal scoff as she thought about it. The dish at hand was difficult, yes, but surely not life changing. Of course, she’ll just have to see. Their little chat slowly fizzled as they both focused on keeping a good pace with their respective share of rolls. By now, the wrapped spring rolls were beginning to clutter their counter, and the Avatar had estimated they had but just a few more to go. She could already imagine just how delicious these would be.

It wasn’t long before they both had finished, and the kitchen counter was lined completely with dozens of spring rolls, neatly organised in trays. Azula could tell which ones were hers. Not just because hers were on one side and his were the other, but from the form. The Avatar’s carefree attitudes did carry over to his cooking, she thought. His were ever so slightly different, while she made a veritable array of uniform rolls. She counted sixty in total, thirty of each as he had estimated. And it was tiring indeed, but nowhere near the supposed life-changing way the Avatar had said.

Azula could hear a massive sigh come from her left. 

“Well Azula, we did it! Sixty spring rolls. Let’s see if any explode when we fry them!”

“Explode? I hope not in my face or anything.”

“Oh no, that doesn’t happen. Not usually, I mean. Sometimes they go ‘pop!’ when they’re wrapped badly. Depends. Might want to do safety squints for when that happens.”

“I see. So, frying?”

“Yep. There’s no other way to make them that crispy and delicious. I’ve tried the oven once to get them nice and crispy. Once. I’ll get the pan going and you can start the frying if you want.”

“Let us begin.”

Azula followed the Avatar as he pulled out a large frying pan from the cabinet and placed it on the stove. Blue flames roared into life, and he seemed to pour a rather generous amount of oil in. Indeed, it was far more than she expected. These were heart attack-inducing levels she saw.

“If you’re worried about the oil, this isn’t enough.” How the Avatar read her mind was something she needed to examine. “It’s a big pan, and the oil needs to be just about half a knuckle. Bit less, but still a lot.”

“Just don’t give me heart disease by the end of this meal, will you? Wouldn’t be nice if that happened.”

“It won’t. I promise. Now, the pan’s hot so wanna drop in the rolls?”

“If you insist.”

Azula turned to fetch one full tray of spring rolls and returned to the stove. She began placing them in one by one with her chopsticks, and carefully arranged them around the pan. The sizzling noise of the rolls was almost music to her ears. A sign of good food to come.

With her spring rolls sizzling away came the smell. The glorious smell. Agni, these things were excellent at teasing the cook when they’re frying. Hot oil spattered at her as the rolls continued cooking, but she shook that off easily. Her own fire was far hotter than just oil spatters, and so she pressed forwards. 

“How are your spring rolls, Azula?”

“I wouldn’t know, seeing as I haven’t tried them yet, Avatar.”

“They look fine. I think. Get them to golden brown and they’ll be beautiful. Quick lesson in heat for ya.”

“Noted. Is there anything else to do?”

“Well, there are the noodles to boil and the dipping sauce, but I’ll handle that. Or if you want, I can take over spring roll duty and you can get a pot from that cupboard there.”

“Noodles it is.” Azula went straight for the cabinet the Avatar pointed out and retrieved a large pot. “How much water do we need?”

“Just enough.”

“That’s not a measurement, Avatar.”

“Just enough is a valid measurement, you’ll see. Maybe about… halfway up the pot?”

“That’s better.”

Once the pot was as the Avatar had indicated, Azula brought it right to the stove, and let the blue flames emerge in full. If need be, she would even add her own, since her patience with the spring rolls had just been thrown out of the window. The smell was too much for any human to bear. 

“Oop!” An audible pop and a slight yelp from the Avatar startled her. “Well, I think that one’s burst a little. Actually, by a lot.”

“Was it mine or yours?”

“I can’t tell. Probably mine. Oh well, chef’s treat!”

Now that was very good news to Azula’s very hungry stomach. 

“I do hope you are sharing, Avatar. Would be terribly impolite if you didn’t.”

“Here you go then. Open wide!”

“What?”

“You said you wanted some. Here, I’ll cut the spring roll in half and you can get it!”

“That’s better. Now, where are the chopsticks?”

“The cooking pair’s here. I’ll get it to ya.”

The Avatar brought half the spring roll over on his chopsticks. If Zuko saw this Azula would never live it down. Though the spring rolls came first, simply because of the smell. Damn the Avatar and his apparently amazing cooking.

“Just this once, Avatar.” She reached forwards and prepared for a bite. “Just this once.”

The smell was but a small sign of the spring rolls’ glory, it seemed. Damn the Avatar again for this. It was beyond good. If anything, it was addicting! Part of her would almost suspect the Avatar had slipped some nefarious chemical in to entice her, but she had seen all that went in. No drugs in sight. They really were just that good. 

“So? How was it?”

Azula tried her best to not smile, simply from the very unceremonious way she had received the spring roll. But it was impossible. Between the Avatar’s light-heartedness, the food, and the calm freedom of their kitchen, Azula found herself involuntarily smiling for the first time in a very long while. She almost wanted that moment to linger, but decided to quash it.

“Delicious. Just right. To kill for. Well done, Avatar.”

Damn that childish smile from him when he heard that. Azula didn’t know eyes could inflate so much!

“Awesome! Now I can put Princess Azula-approved on the recipe!”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Fine. It won’t be on paper. Can I still say you approve of them when I make more?”

“No. You may not. That is an order. A royal decree, if you will.”

“I’m not from the Fire Nation.”

“The laws can be… professionally guided to help with that. So don’t. No stamping my name anywhere.”

“Fine. It’ll still be ‘Azula’s Favourite Recipe’ to me though!”

“So far, you mean.”

“What?”

It took Azula a moment to realise what she had just implied. To reveal her own eagerness so early on, that was a mistake she would not have made so easily. Normally she would correct herself, but this time, a very significant part of her wanted to… oh dear.

“This is only my favourite recipe so far. Or are you going to stop our deal so quickly?”

“Azula, we never had a deal. You remember, right?”

“What?” Now it was her turn to be surprised. “But you agreed, just this morning.”

“All I wanted to do was teach you some cooking, it’s not like that’s a huge deal or anything.”

That was wrong. Azula knew it, absolutely knew it had to be very wrong. Things in the Fire Nation were never free. Nothing. Every act, every service had a price, a cost to them. That was drilled into every child’s mind since they could learn. Even a gift had its strings. She knew that all too well.

“Why?”

“Why what? It’s just cooking, Azula.”

“Indeed it is, but why? What favours do you need from me?”

“None! Azula, I promise, it’s just me sharing what little I know about cooking, from one friend to another.”

It was now that Azula realised the Avatar had been telling the truth. She’d been picking up all the clues, all the tells that should have been there, but there were none. No lies, no misdirection, not a single crumb of dishonesty. Only she had forgotten to acknowledge this while she pressed on with her grilling. How prejudice clouds the mind indeed.

“Friend to friend, you say?”

“Yeah! I mean… you’ve cooked with me now, that kinda puts you into “cool friend” territory, Azula.”

The Avatar’s friendship. Now that was something Azula never thought she would gain so quickly. How could someone even do that? Befriend in just an instant?

“You would do this… for me?”

“I would do it for anyone, Azula. Friendship is just the least of what you deserve.”

Another truth. She would normally dismiss it as being misguided, but those words struck her. For however long, Azula stood there paralysed, trying to resolve conflicting inputs. 

“Azula? Are you okay?”

His question almost jerked her back to reality. Azula decided she would do something she had never done before. Her father would murder her if he were here. But he wasn’t, and that was good.

“Th-thank you, Avatar. For all of this. Thank you.”

And for once, Azula felt she was speaking the truth. 

“Azula, you are my friend. And friends help each other out. Now come on, I think I can hear the water boiling now. To the spring rolls!”

A great weight had lifted off her shoulders, Azula thought. A deep breath of free air confirmed her thoughts. And so, she returned to the stove and the spring rolls. The frying turned them into a beautiful golden brown now, and she thought they were almost ready as she flipped them. To her side she could see the Avatar throwing rice noodles into the boiling water. Wouldn’t be long now. 

The clinking of porcelain came from her right as the Avatar brought her a large plate, and she began removing the spring rolls. Agni, they smelled and looked just right. But no, those had to wait. Another batch needed frying. She quickly added a fresh dozen into the hot oil, and the cycle began anew.

“Oh, we might want to get the dipping sauce ready. You up for making some?”

“What’s in it?”

“Fish sauce, sugar, and a dash of lime. The important bit’s the lime. Spring rolls are pretty heavy stuff so lime balances it out. Limes. Are. Magical. That’s what Monk Gyatso taught me and I won’t doubt that. So yeah, I’ll squeeze in the lime and you can add the sugar.”

“Noted. Limes are magical. How much sugar?”

“For this much fish sauce… juice of a whole lime… maybe a spoonful or two? Try experimenting and tasting it.”

Azula began adding the sugar little by little. Lemonade wasn’t on the menu today, after all. This meant her first sampling was nothing more than salty lemon juice. Not at all enjoyable.

It took another spoonful of sugar before she was happy with the result. The Avatar seemed to agree when he tasted it for himself.

“That’s perfect! That’s everything done then. I just drained the noodles so… we have a meal!”

“We have a meal indeed. To the table?”

“To the table!”

As the Avatar dashed to the table with a plate of spring rolls on one hand and noodles in the other, Azula carefully brought the dipping sauce over. She made it safely across the kitchen and finally, their hard work finished. From the whirlwind of a shopping trip to his crash course in cooking, this day has been a day. 

“You ready for an awesome lunch, Azula?”

“I’ve been waiting for this ever since we started cooking, so yes.”

“Come on. Let’s tuck in.”

It took Azula only one bite of the spring roll to confirm their deliciousness. Agni, she could survive entirely on these things for the rest of her life! The Avatar was right. From the crunch of the rice paper to the rich filling balanced by the lime, and then the noodles cooked to perfection, this was one of the best meals she had ever eaten in quite some time. And for once, in company she could relax with. The feeling of it all… it was addictive. Dangerously addictive.

“Spring rolls can be a one-person job, right?”

“Once you can make them, Azula, absolutely. And you can now. Yours are a lot more uniform than mine, too. This one’s mine, it’s a bit too fat.”

“Still delicious. Absolutely delicious. This better not be a regular thing now, you giving me really fatty foods.”

“On the contrary, Princess, that is exactly what I plan to do.”

“This was not part of our agreement, Avatar.”

“Azula, we don’t have a deal, remember? I can teach you any recipe I want!”

Azula could tell she would really need to hit the gym this afternoon, courtesy of this amazing lunch. Perks (or not?) of being friends with the Avatar. Friends. Unimaginable, that idea.

“Any recipe? What’s up next then?”

“I think I’ll pull a this morning again and figure out what we could cook while shopping.”

“That better not be a recurring thing. I like to have a plan.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it? And Avatars are supposed to be good at improvising. Just doing my job, Azula.”

“You’ve done very well then. Lunch was phenomenal and I’ve learned much about cooking. Thank you for that, Avatar.”

“Don’t worry, there’s still so much more to learn. I’ve given you the basics of cooking, which is fun, but baking’s gonna be a doozy!”

The fact that Azula’s response to the prospect of having deal with the Avatar more was now one of excitement said a lot about how much this day had changed her. She wondered where the spirits would take her next at this rate. On second thought, she really did not want to know where they could take her.

“I’ll be looking forward to that. Any specialties in mind?”

“I’ll think of them as we go, Azula. That’s all I can say.”

Azula let out a reserved harrumph when she heard that response. Does he have to be so opaque about food?

Their little conversation ended when a servant entered the chamber. 

“My lord Avatar, the Fire Lord requests your presence.” The girl, likely one of her brother’s many bureaucrats, approached their table.

“Is it urgent?” The Avatar seemed miffed that this lunch was to be cut short. 

“He didn’t say, my lord. But he did stress that you were necessary.”

“My brother’s trying to be sneaky again, isn’t he?” This was Zuko’s way of trying to be discreet when it came to some serious matter. “You better go, Avatar. Sounds important.”

“Tell Zuko I’ll be there in ten minutes.” The girl left, and the Avatar turned to Azula. “Well, I guess this is it.”

“For now. Like you said.”

“For now, yeah. Oh, before I go, can I ask just one thing?”

“You may, yes.”

“Just one request. The whole Avatar thing… that’s just my job. And we’re friends now, Azula. Good awesome kitchen friends! So… would it be OK if you called me Aang?”

“That can be done. Now go… Aang.”

“I’ll see you around, Azula. More food to come!”

And with that, the Avata—Aang breezed his way out of the room. And for once, Azula was looking forward to seeing him again. How quickly she has changed. 

Spirits, she’s a close friend of the Avatar now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendship! Up next, more food. If you want to suggest a dish that Aang and Azula could make, feel free to comment!


End file.
